


I'll Make It All Better

by asiacore



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Curtain Fic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:19:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asiacore/pseuds/asiacore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall’s one of those helpless sick people and curses himself for it as he falls in a heap on the floor. He briefly considers crawling to the bathroom to maybe get a glass from the tap or to wee or to do something other than lay around uselessly, but he’s still stuck between thoughts with his head pressed to the edge of his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Make It All Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mashton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mashton/gifts).



> niall and harry are in an established relationship in this fic. basically it's all about how niall gets sick and harry's there to fix him. the rest of the guys are mentioned but make no physical appearances. this fic came to be because morgan spurlock tweeted that pic of harry and somehow it spiraled into this. you can thank [allison](http://tayloryorkyall.tumblr.com/) for that, because this is all for her.

As much as Niall enjoys touring, being on the stage, performing with his four best mates, he loves off days twice as much.

There’s something about having the option to either completely veg out on the couch with one hand in a bag of crisps and the other in his pants or to go out and run around town, maybe do some shopping or go back home and visit his friends and family that settles him. It gives him a feeling no amount of screaming fans or bright lights and full arenas could ever give him.

So it’s just Niall’s luck that on the week they have off between shows, right before they kick off the full European leg of tour, he gets sick.

He’s ill and he feels like crap and he just wants to stay home and wallow in self pity.

Liam phones him early one morning at an ungodly hour, some ridiculous time that Niall wouldn’t even imagine waking up at, to check in on him. He apologizes, says he’s sorry that he can’t come and visit Niall in person and then apologizes again for waking him up before quickly hanging up in an attempt to allow Niall to cling on to those last remnants of sleep.

But it’s too late Niall’s awake now and his whole body aches from months of touring around Europe and reckless stage fighting. He promised himself that he would take it easy this time around because of his knee, told himself that he’d be doubly careful after Louis messed his up too. But that all flew out the window the first time Harry tripped on stage and pulled Niall down with him. Louis, never the one to allow any of his boys to look bad falls on top of them and yanks at Zayn and Liam until they’re in a proper puppy pile.

It becomes something like a routine after that. They all fall on top of each other on stage and Zayn generally tries to steer clear of their antics, but he can’t help but find himself smashed between a pile of boy sometimes and Niall’s pretty sure he doesn’t really mind anyway.

He rolls over and groans into his pillow, it’s too early to be awake and too late to go back to sleep and his stomach is twisting in knots. He thinks he maybe just wants a burger, or maybe a blowjob, or both. Where’s Harry when Niall needs him most?

Rolling out of bed is hard enough when he’s healthy but damn near impossible while being sick. Niall’s one of those helpless sick people and curses himself for it as he falls in a heap on the floor. He briefly considers crawling to the bathroom to maybe get a glass from the tap or to wee or to do something other than lay around uselessly, but he’s still stuck between thoughts with his head pressed to the edge of his bed when his bedroom door flies open.

In an instant he’s being engulfed by two strong arms that lift him up and place him gingerly back on his bed. He would be alarmed, but if it’s a fan or maybe someone there to rob him of his possessions, then at least they don’t mean to add any physical injury to his already aching body.

Plus, he’s sure it’s Harry.

“Niall,” Harry says and Niall’s got his eyes screwed shut but he can hear the frown in his voice. “Niall, are you alright?”

“Never been better,” he answers, flops down on his back, “why do you ask?”

“You were just on the floor, Niall,” Harry chastises him. “Liam rang me yesterday and told me you’re sick.”

“He’s right, I am.” Niall smiles weakly up at him. “S’alright though, I’ll survive.”

Harry rolls his eyes and it’s clear he can see right through Niall’s false bravado. “Yeah you will, because I’m here.” He sits down on the bed next to Niall. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Niall blinks. _Why hadn’t he told Harry?_ Liam was the first person he shot a text to. He’d replied with an almost instant, _‘awww thatr sucksssss i’m sorry nialler feel better sooon ))):_ ’ Louis just sent him a gaggle of sad looking emoticons and then proceeded to boast about his holiday with Eleanor and well Zayn, he’s not heard back from Zayn yet, but that’s no surprise.

“Because you’re supposed to be in LA right now…” Niall remembers and scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion. “Why are you here?”

“I came back early,” Harry shrugs nonchalantly.

“Why?” Niall asks but Harry waves him off.

“Because you’re my boyfriend?” Harry says defensively, “and you look like death, c’mon let’s get you well.” He hooks an arm under Niall’s shoulders and the other under his legs until he’s carrying him bridal style into his kitchen.

“But—” Niall starts but is cut off when Harry plops him down in the chair closest to the stove.

Harry casts a warning glance at him not to move and sets about putting on the kettle. “Right,” he says, “first is tea.”

Niall sighs and lays his head against the cool table top and watches as Harry potters around the kitchen. He laughs at himself because Harry’s pottering, _Harry Potter_ and Harry turns around to glance at him.

“What’s so funny, then?” he asks, a smile already playing at his lips and Niall just shakes his head. He doesn’t have it in himself to explain it and it’s not that funny anyway.

“You,” is what comes out and Harry looks scandalized for a second before pulling a face and sticking his tongue out at him.

“Fine way to treat someone who has flown across the globe to nurse your sorry arse back to health.” Harry says with no mirth as he turns back around to tend to the whistling kettle.

“I still don’t get it,” Niall says, “why you flew all the way out here just for me.”

“Oh hush,” Harry says but goes red from the tip of ears down to the plunging neckline of the thin white shirt he’s wearing which in turn gets Niall all flustered. “I ought to leave now and let you wither alone.”

“But you won’t because you caaaare about me,” Niall sings and smiles goofily down into his cup of tea when Harry slides it to him.

“Of course I do,” he says and ruffles his hair. “I care more about you than anyone else.”

-

Harry, the bastard, gives Niall chamomile tea and he nods off right there at the table.

The last thing he remembers is Harry slowly but surely retelling a story about when he was in Los Angeles for all of two days, his arms flying around wildly as he gestures along. But now that he’s awake he’s back in bed and Harry’s there too with an arm thrown across his stomach.

Niall wriggles around until he’s facing Harry and lifts the arm that isn’t trapped between them to nudge him. “Harry,” he whispers.

Nothing happens, he doesn’t even stir and Niall sighs. He’s really got to wee now and Harry’s got him locked down on the bed and won’t even wake up.

“Harry,” he says again and this time presses his cold toes to Harry’s bare legs underneath the sheets. “Haaarrryyyy”

Harry peeks an eye open before scooting forward and burying his head in Niall’s pillow. “Go back to sleep,” he mumbles into the down. Niall pokes at him again until Harry rolls over and blinks awake.

Niall’s stomach does flip flops much like earlier and he’s acutely aware that he hasn’t eaten anything yet. “I can’t,” he says and pushes back so they aren’t as close and he won’t be tempted to kiss him. “I’m hungry.”

“When are you not?” Harry rolls eyes but sits up with a lazy smile anyway. “Alright then, what would you like?”

“Food,” Niall sits up too and shuffles to the edge of the bed, back turned so he doesn’t have to see Harry look at him like that while he can’t do anything about it.

“How very vague of you.” Harry stands up into a stretch. He’s in nothing but his pants and his shirt that rises up and exposes his belly when his arms reach up high behind him. “Lucky for you, I specialize in all things food.”

“Okay,” Niall accepts the arm Harry extends to him and lets Harry pull him up and envelop him in a lung crushing hug. He’s never been bugged by Harry’s height, at least not like Louis, and he still isn’t. The size difference thing is sort of a turn on for Niall and he has to wriggle himself free of his boyfriend’s clutches before his impending hard on came out to play.

Harry releases him with the promise of “A FULL ENGLISH BREAKFAST, NIALLER!” even though its well past noon, Niall can’t complain so he just nods and shuffles past him into the bathroom.

When Niall comes out into the living room half an hour later, he sees Harry sprawled out on the couch flipping through channels on the telly. “Oh hey,” he looks up when he walks and scoots over to make room for Niall. “I ordered takeaway because your kitchen is pathetic.”

Niall snorts indignantly but flops down next to him anyway. “I have plenty of food in there.”

“You do, you’ve got lots of crap. As soon as you’re well we’re going shopping.” Harry nods and throws his legs up in Niall’s lap when he settles. Niall waits for him to stop moving before speaking again.

“Well, what did you order?” And when is it going to get there because Niall is starving and he’s sure his stomach is eating itself.

“Curry from that Indian place up the road, oh and soup. We need to properly drain you of those toxins.”

“What are you, a doctor?” Niall idly rubs circles to the caps of Harry’s knees.

“No I’m just smart, Niall. I know things.” Harry leans forward and ruffles his hair again. “Plus I googled it while you were in the bath.”

Niall finds himself leaning into Harry’s hands scratching through his scalp and almost falls back asleep too until there’s a knock at the door and he jumps back.

“I’ve got it,” Harry hops up and bounds over to the door. Niall lays himself out horizontally on the couch and can feel how it’s still warm from where Harry was just sat. He burrows down further into it and figures Harry’s rubbed off on him too much because he too is starting to act like a human-sized cat. “I’m back with offerings!”

It takes a lot of will power also the fact that he can barely move to stop Niall from jumping up in excitement. Niall sits up when Harry sets the bags down in front of them, doesn’t even bother with plating or proper silverware much to Niall’s delight and they both dig in.

When they’re done Harry takes out the garbage and lays out on the too small couch with his head in Niall’s lap and his legs dangling over the edge. Harry mutes the tv and looks up at him expectantly. “I’m gonna get you sick,” Niall shakes his head.

“I don’t care,” Harry blinks and purses his lips. “Please,” he pulls a pained looking face and puts on his best puppy eyes, the kind that break even the strongest men like Paul or Grimmy or Simon and Niall sighs. “This is the least I deserve, what with you not even telling me that you were sick in the first place.”

“You were on holiday!” Niall exclaims and his voice even sounds wrecked to him. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “What was worrying was Liam calling me at two in the morning telling me that you were here alone dying.”

“Liam’s a liar.” Niall mentally agrees to never tell Liam anything again ever. “I wasn’t dying, I was just…”

“Dying,” Harry concludes and sits up anyway. He grabs Niall’s face and pulls him until they’re nose to nose. “I really don’t mind, we could be sick together and that’d give us a reason to stay inside and not go out ever again.”

“Does this lead to us getting our dicks out?” Niall asks. “Because that’s all I’m looking forward to here.”

“It could,” Harry shrugs, “if you let me kiss you.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s do it.” Niall nods and pushes Harry back. He clambers on top of him with his legs splayed on either side of Harry’s waist before leaning down and pressing a closed mouth kiss to his lips.

Harry pulls back and shakes his head. “Oh, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” He smiles cheekily before sliding his hands from Niall’s face, down his back and gripping at the back of his thighs. “I’ll show you how it’s done.” He heaves him up and stumbles them all the way back to the bedroom.

-

Niall sleeps the entire next day. He wakes up at odd times in short bursts for the rest of the week only to have Harry shove medication and water down his throat before he falls back asleep and by the end of the week he’s already feeling better. He rolls over to find Harry still asleep and opts to let him rest since he’s run himself ragged looking after Niall the past few days.

After going through his morning routine Niall drags himself into the kitchen in search of food. He looks in the fridge and sighs because everything seems like too much work when he could just wait until Harry wakes up.

So he pops four slices of bread in the toaster and settles that it’ll tide him over until later. Once the toast pops out he slathers two in that peach ginger jam that Harry’s got him addicted two and coats the other two in the old reliable grape flavour before heading back to bed.

It’s still pretty chilly out to be mid April and he pulls the covers up to his armpits while trying to uncomfortably maneuver his toast around without dropping it. He silently curses himself when Harry shifts and rolls so he’s facing him, his eyes are still closed though so maybe he hasn’t woken him.

“Mmm,” Harry jostles around a bit. “Something smells good.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Of course you only woke up to steal my food.”

“And a kiss,” Harry leans up on his elbows and presses his lips to Niall’s, “or two,” he does it again and smiles triumphantly when he falls back on the bed after snagging a jam covered piece of toast while Niall was distracted.

“Good thing I made four,” Niall mumbles.

“You’d let me have it even if you made one,” Harry teases.

“Obviously you think I like you more than I actually do.” Niall pulls back when Harry tries to steal another. “I am not above biting off a finger or two, Styles.”

“You would never.” Harry smiles. “You love me too much.”

“Nothing is stronger than a man’s love for food.” Niall says as his phone beeps. He sets his plate down and reaches over to grab his phone off his nightstand. There’s a nearly illegible text from Liam followed by one that says ‘ _hope ur betttter nialler’_ and Niall taps out a response before setting his phone back down and rolling over to see Harry shoving the last piece of toast in his mouth.

“Wuv u,” he says with his mouth full of bread before digging his head in the pillow to suppress his giggles.

Niall blindly grabs at his phone and snaps a picture of Harry when he peeks an eye out like he always does when he doesn’t want to wake up.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks before rolling over and throwing an arm around his waist.

“Taking a picture,” Niall says and sets up his shot. He waits for that lazy early morning smile to make an appearance before capturing the moment and typing out a message.

“What are you gonna do with that?” Harry inches closer to get a better look but Niall tilts the phone away from his line of sight.

“You’ll see,” he says and doesn’t move back over to let Harry see until he’s done. “Your days are numbered, Styles.” He says before handing him the phone and standing up.

 

Harry’s mouth drops as he reads the tweet and Niall cackles before he leans down to smack a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek and flounces out of the room and doesn't even make it to the kitchen before being tackled to the ground.

“Deleeete it,” Harry whines. “I look so bad Niall, pleeeeeease.”

“Alright, alright!” Niall swats at him. “Quit your whining and get offa me!”

When Harry rolls off of him Niall doubles back to his room with no intentions of deleting the tweet. Harry tackles him again, thankfully this time on the bed, he wasn’t sure if his knee could take too much more of a beating.

“Niall,” Harry says very seriously, even though from where Niall’s laying Harry’s got the vantage point here. He’s got Niall pinned down on the bed with a leg bracketing either side of him, but he’s got his hands splayed on Niall’s chest and his fingers are massaging gently at the fabric underneath them. “What can I do to make this better?”

“Food,” he says and when will Harry learn? Food is the answer to everything. “I recall being promised to a full English breakfast earlier this week and I’ve yet to receive that so—”

“Anything,” Harry cuts him off with a peck to the lips, “I’m on it,” and another one.

Niall’s got his hands clutched at Harry’s waist and he doesn’t want to let him go, but its either stay in bed all morning with Harry or food…with Harry. He lets him go and follows him all the way into the kitchen.

He can’t keep his hands off Harry while he cooks. Niall finds him oddly distracting and can’t help but brush his fingers across his bare waist when he walks by or going to grab something he knows Harry needs, just to be a little shit about it.

Eventually Niall gives up and just stands up. He moves over to where Harry’s stood by the stove and wraps his arms as tight as he can around him before burying his face in unruly curls.

“Stop it Niall,” Harry says but makes no attempt to actually pry him off.

“But you smell so good,” Niall inhales.

Niall can practically hear Harry rolling his eyes. “I smell like _you_.”

“Exactly.” He noses at his neck. “C’mere,” Niall turns him around so they’re face to face, Harry’s back to the stove. “I missed this,” he says in between eskimo kisses.

“Me too,” Harry leans in for a full on kiss. He licks into Niall’s mouth and everything feels different now. Now that Niall’s got his braces off. “You’d hardly let me anywhere near you.”

“So let’s make up for lost time,” Niall shrugs and starts pulling them back into the bedroom.

Harry relents. “But the eggs are gonna burn.”

“It’s okay,” Niall silences him with another kiss. “We’ll just order in instead.”

 


End file.
